


Stiles Shot First

by lyvanna



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Anal Sex, Established Relationship, Fluff, Foot Fetish, Frottage, I Don't Even Know, M/M, Movie Night, Rimming, i cannot apologise enough for the title, i don't know it started off date night then came all the porn, porn with minimal plot, random scott is random
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-07
Updated: 2013-01-07
Packaged: 2017-11-24 01:46:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,620
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/628915
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lyvanna/pseuds/lyvanna
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Are we really going to eat all that popcorn?”</p>
<p>“Nope. I'm going to eat all this popcorn. You said you didn't want any,” Stiles reminded him before making a point and stuffing an obnoxious amount of the greasy corn into his mouth, chewing vigorously, a few kernels falling back into the bowl. </p>
<p>“But now you're making it look so appetising,” Derek deadpanned, eyeing a kernel as it escaped from the bowl and made it's way between the couch cushions never to be seen again.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Stiles Shot First

“Are we really going to eat all that popcorn?”

“Nope. _I'm_ going to eat all this popcorn. You said you didn't want any,” Stiles reminded him before making a point and stuffing an obnoxious amount of the greasy corn into his mouth, chewing vigorously, a few kernels falling back into the bowl. 

“But now you're making it look so appetising,” Derek deadpanned, eyeing a kernel as it escaped from the bowl and made it's way between the couch cushions never to be seen again. 

“Just shut up and watch the movie,” Stiles ordered, clicking his way through the DVD menus like a pro. Derek sat down on the opposite end of the couch and when Stiles had finally reached the 'play' screen he paused to shoot his boyfriend a glare. They weren't the type that needed to constantly cuddle or anything but this was movie-night and a little bit of cuddling was kind-of half the appeal. Actually usually it was Derek who insisted on sitting so close to Stiles that he had to have ice-cold drinks on stand-by to counteract the werewolf heat. Derek looked back at Stiles, a little glint in his eye that changed Stiles' mental demand for him to move closer into a raised eyebrow and just a questioning, “Comfortable?”

Derek kicked off his shoes, swung his legs around and forced his feet onto Stiles lap, disrupting the bowl of popcorn so that it felt the need to tip half it's contents onto the floor, “Very,” Derek smiled.

“Seriously?” Stiles rolled his eyes. He scooped up as much of the popcorn as he could reach, “Why are you trying to get between a man and his snacks? Luckily in the Stilinski household there is no five-second rule,” and as proof he picked up a piece from the floor and popped it into his mouth. He straightened up, now slightly less comfortable with Derek's feet weighing him down, and pressed play on the film. Sure, he could push Derek's feet off and tell him to get over to his side of the couch already but that would be letting him win and, well, the Alpha needed to be shown his place every now again. Or at least for the first half-hour of the film.

After the titles had rolled up the screen and the action had started he shot a glance over at Derek to find him engrossed, which of course Stiles just had to disrupt, “I can't believe you've never seen these films before,”

“I never said that,” Derek's eyes were still glued to the screen with an intensity that belied his statement. They'd both accepted a while ago that Derek was a little culturally out of touch so Stiles had taken on the task to educate him with a solemn (Netflix ordering madness) dignity. But sometimes he forgot that Derek wasn't a complete cave-person.

“I just figured--” 

“I just haven't seen them since I was little,” 

“Oh,” 

The statement hung in the air above them. Oh. The bottom dropped out of his fun-poking. Stiles stuffed a handful of popcorn into his stupid mouth. The image of little Derek watching these films for the first time with his family popping up unwanted in his mind. And of Stiles' mom wrapping an arm around his cartoon-character pyjama-clad shoulders as they sat on the new carpet that their toes sank into, the smell of snow and pine trees in the air, and the melodic rumbling of her voice as she read out the too-fast words that started the film. Memory and imagination jumbled in his mind so it felt like they were both sitting there together. And then alone. 

Derek pressed a toe into Stiles' thigh and he looked up. He realised he hadn't been watching the film for a few minutes. He could feel the werewolf watching him intently. He rested a hand on Derek's left foot and forced another load of popcorn into his mouth, crunching down. After a few seconds Derek's attention returned to the film. His feet stayed on Stiles' lap. 

The popcorn, predictably, was finished all too soon. Stiles played with the bowl for a few minutes before after his third time of almost dropping it the bowl slid off his legs and across the floor in a successful escape. His hands now itched for something to do. 

He briefly considered tickling the offending feet that were holding him still in his seat but Derek was watching the film with such concentration that it seemed a little uncharitable. Still, he took the left foot in his hands, pulling it a little further into his lap. Eyes still on the film he worried at the material of Derek's sock for a few minutes before tugging it off and twisting it around his fingers which were still slightly greasy. Slowest strip-tease ever. He grinned a little and glanced up at Derek. Nothing. He dropped the sock over the side of the couch, hoping it'd never be found again, and traced his fingers lightly over Derek's foot. It wasn't really a part of Derek's body that he'd considered before. Face, hands, chest- hell yes. But his poor feet were sadly neglected. He explored the skin with the pads of his fingers, eyes still on the film. 

Like the rest of Derek's skin, with his stupid super-healing powers, Derek's feet were smooth and flawless – not a cracked heal or verruca in sight. Stiles' hands traced the little tuft of hair at the back of his big toe, then counted their way along his other toes, manipulating them pleasingly with his fingers as he went. His second toe stood out proud from the big toe, longer. Stiles' thumb slid against the ball of Derek's foot and he started to rub there, first unthinkingly and then to feel the resistance of the muscle and bone underneath his fingers. His hands pressed into Derek's foot, rubbing along the arch and against the heel. Up until that point he was really still just watching the film while his hands played idly but the little sigh that Derek gave out when he pressed a thumb into a soft part in the middle of Derek's foot surprised him into paying attention to what his hands were doing. The werewolf was still watching the screen but he'd slid down the couch a little until his head was resting on the armrest and now his feet were pushed further into Stiles' lap. Stiles gave a little frown and opened his mouth to protest at this sudden turn of events but something about how Derek's mouth opened a little in surprise at a space explosion stopped him. 

Fine.

He yanked Derek's other sock off and started work on that foot as well. When he'd done with the feet he started up along Derek's ankles, then into his calves. The sighs and, he swears, even occasional moans, made his endeavours far more enjoyable and distracting than he'd expected. For a kid with an oral fixation and fidgeting hands he was used to catching himself half-way towards doing something inappropriate, used to holding back. It still surprised him sometimes that this body was his to touch freely, that his hands could roam over this flesh without asking permission. That they were welcome. He had the strongest desire to suck Derek's big toe into his mouth that he surprised himself by resisting while the space battles were still going on. Some things were more important, y'know?

By the end of the film Derek had slid down into the couch, dislodging the cushions, unwound and relaxed. His feet pressing demandingly into Stiles' hands. But all desire to be irritating was now gone, his feet just gently begged for Stiles' fingers to continue their work. Derek's hair was tousled from lying down on the couch and his shirt rode up slightly over his stomach. He looked so unlike the controlled, tense Derek that Stiles was used to that it was both strange and a little sad. And of course hot, but that was a given.

The final credits rolled up the screen and seemed to wake Derek from his stupor. With a reluctant groan he twisted to look down at Stiles, then back at the TV, then back to Stiles again. The DVD for the second film sat invitingly in its case on the floor. 

Stiles groaned and stretched. Derek might have made himself ridiculously comfortable but he felt his muscles begging to move, especially his legs which had just been pinned under him for two hours. He tried to push Derek's feet off him and the werewolf got this adorably confused look on his face that Stiles couldn't help but bark out a laugh, “Ok, I have to get up to change the disk, as you so subtly hinted,” 

Derek let him up reluctantly, pulling himself up on the couch a little with a frown. Stiles stood and stretched out, reaching his arms to the ceiling and twisting his back until he felt all the aches ease. He looked down at the Alpha, who was still frowning, and grinned wickedly. 

“Ok, there is no way we're watching another film now,”

“What? Why not?” Derek's frown deepened, eyebrows having a meeting on his forehead. 

“Because we have to go upstairs and have sex, like right now, I demand it,” his hands gestured wildly along the expanse of Derek's sexily dishevelled clothing and hair by way of explanation. The emotional whiplash on Derek's face was kinda funny as he went from confused and annoyed to surprised. Then a little smug grin played over his mouth. “No need to look like that,” Stiles said loftily, “I expect a lot of payback for that footrub—no, lets not call it that.. that massage? Sexy massage. I just gave you. A. Lot.” 

“What massage?”

“Don't you play innocent with me, it's your moaning that got us into this trouble in the first place,” he gestured down at his groin, “I think we might have discovered I'm a secret foot fetishist,” 

“Stiles?”

A new, confused and a little more high-pitched than usual voice in the room caused Stiles to turn and Derek to sit up instantly on the couch. Scott and Allison stood in the doorway. Allison had a hand clamped over a wide grin, Scott looked a little confused. 

“Oh, hey guys,” Stiles said, casually walking to behind the couch where things would look a little less prominent. 

“We just came over to see if you wanted to hang out,” Scott explained, eying Derek. Stiles placed a hand on the Alpha's already tensing shoulders. He vaguely remembered that he'd mentioned movie-night in the presence of Scott and his stupid were-hearing. And being painfully single for most of your life meant that friends got used to just dropping over whenever, assuming you wanted to hang. 

“It's ok, we're intruding,” Allison said, grabbing onto Scott's arm and trying to drag him back out of the room, the grin still on her face. Scott wasn't moving, still looking between Derek and Stiles. The whole pack knew they were dating, but they'd kinda made efforts to keep it out of pack meetings. Ok, so a few touches here and there had earned them knowing glanced and smiles but never from Scott whose attention was mostly always taken up by Allison anyway. This seemed like a little too much for him. 

“Yep, sorry buddy, movie night's over now anyway, we're just off to bed,” Stiles said, abiding by the rule that he should say the first thing that came into his head before the next thing popped out which would inevitably be worse. He couldn't imagine how, in this case, but he's sure it would have been. He was still uncomfortable behind the couch and it didn't help that Derek was still looking beautifully dishevelled. Scott's mouth dropped open in a little distressed way that caused Allison to start laughing and Stiles to wipe out his momentary embarrassment with a grin. Derek's glare only made the situation funnier, “God, werewolves are such prudes,” Stiles managed to say before dissolving into full-blown laughter, only slightly influenced by the awkwardness of the situation. Allison joined in with him though and eventually Scott's face went from shocked to chagrined to a little weak smile of acceptance. He was powerless to Allison's laughter. 

“Ok buddy, I guess I'll see you tomorrow,” Scott gave in. Allison took hold of his arm again and this time he allowed himself to be lead almost completely out of the door before his eye caught on something, “Wait, were you watching Star Wars?” his face is a picture of hurt betrayal. 

“Well... yeah,” Stiles had been hoping Scott wouldn't notice that little detail. Scott's face went from scrunched up to happy grin in an instant,

“Ok, cool, remember to do the Ewok singing at the end,”

“Bye Scott! Bye Allison!” Stiles said with a cheerful little wave. Scott left, pouting. Derek's shoulders remained tense and his head was twisted towards the doorway. It seemed like whatever spell of relaxation that Stiles had managed to weave had been broken. Maybe they did need to touch more in front of people. Then there wouldn't be such a vast switchover between the Derek that everyone else saw who disappeared into his head in moody silence and the one that Stiles saw. He needed to train him. 

And never refer to it as that out loud. 

He clapped his other hand onto Derek's shoulder as much to break Derek out of his brooding as to stop himself from talking about training werewolves, “Now, where were we?” 

“You were begging for sex,” Derek said, corners of his mouth twitching. Stiles scowled,

“Stop trying to kill the mood Casanova. Get upstairs and get naked and I might forget you said that,” 

Derek twisted in his seat, attention suddenly focussed on the door. Stiles turned to look, suddenly apprehensive, wondering if Scott was back to cockblock again or if that was going to be the job of some other supernatural beast. But after a moment Derek just turned back with a relaxed grin and explained, “Scott would like to remind us that he still has were wolf hearing and wants us to wait until he gets a bit further away,”

Stiles rolled his eyes, walked around the couch and fisted Derek's shirt in his hands. He pulled the other man into a kiss, lips clashing then settling together, tongue forced into the Alpha's mouth pulling a moan from his chest. Derek's arms slid around him, he stood from the couch without breaking the kiss and pushed Stiles backwards in the vague direction of the stairs. When his heels hit the bottom step he pulled back, gasping for air. The way Derek was looking at him wasn't really helping him catch his breath, pupils wide and dark, lips moist and swollen. It was a look full of lust and intimacy that was frightening in all the good ways. Like Derek was so lost in him that he forgot to be tired and angry and frightened for a while. That was a good feeling. 

Stiles' fingers tugged at the hem of Derek's shirt and in an instant the garment was on the floor. Derek always made it looks so easy, just shedding the material like he'd never been wearing it in the first place. Sure, Stiles was an undressing pro alone but in front of people he tended more often than not to get his elbow stuck in the arm hole and come off like the least swarve and seductive person ever. He appreciates that Derek helps him with this, first pushing off the shirt he's wearing then helping him slide off the t-shirt, warm hands gliding eagerly up Stiles' sides as he goes. 

Their mouths have been apart for too long. As soon as the t-shirt is out of the way Derek pushes forward, lips demanding. Stiles backs up against the stairs and allows himself to be pushed down against the steps as Derek's tongue slides against his. Derek braces his arms against the step at Stiles' head and as the kiss deepens pushes his right leg between Stiles', rubbing up against the bulge in Stiles' jeans in a way that makes him jerk out of the kiss with a gasp. 

The stairs are digging into his back uncomfortably but if Derek keeps grinding up against him he's not sure if he can quite bring himself to care. He slides his hands down the Alpha's back and pushes past the waistband of his jeans to the flesh of his ass. Derek thrusts forward.

“Shit, Derek--” Stiles makes the least convincing complaint ever. He can feel Derek hard and straining against his thigh, “--I'm not going to last until we get upstairs,”

Derek growls and pushes Stiles up a step. He whimpers as he feels his feet leave the ground and find small purchase on the bottom step. It seems that is as far upstairs as they're going to get as Derek has now ducked his head head into the crook of Stiles' neck and is trailing a hot tongue from his ear to the hollow of his collar bone. Stiles holds onto his shoulders and stares up at the ceiling breathlessly. Derek's thumb rough on his nipple draws a small moan from his mouth. At the sound Derek bucks his hips, resuming the movement of before. Stiles tries to meet his thrusts but is still pinned by Derek's arms so settles for attacking the skin of Derek's shoulder his his lips, his tongue, and his teeth. At the first graze Derek murmurs, when the teeth make an imprint a growl vibrates his body and his thigh raises between Stiles legs to reorganise the pleasure/pain ratio. 

“Come on,” Stiles mutters, sounding undone even to his own ears, “I want you inside me,” He doesn't plead, though he is quite close to it, but the tone is there in his voice. Derek pulls away a little so he can look into Stiles face, eyes hungry and soft at the same time. Stiles' heart throbs. It's a little too tender, a little too open and his first response is love... then embarrassment at perhaps having revealed something that they haven't discussed yet, something that he's afraid is just his. Derek lowers his mouth onto Stiles', lips meeting soft and sweet. He shudders into the kiss with something like relief. They stay like that for a moment, bodies stilled apart from their mouths and the hand that Stiles creeps up to touch Derek's face. But no declarations appear. They can wait. Derek pulls away and releases Stiles, allowing him to stumble backwards up a few steps. He regains balance and offers a lopsided grin, confidence fully restored. Twisting he gets out fully from Derek's grip and half walks, half crawls up the remainder of the steps. He looks down at Derek, still leaning up against the steps, and deliberately makes challenging eye-contact when he slides off the rest of his clothes. 

“Catch me,” 

He barely makes it around the corner to his room before Derek, now also naked, barrels into him, arms wrapping around his middle and pulling him down onto his poor aching mattress with a thud and a groan of springs. Stiles struggles a moment in Derek's grip but the werewolf pins him down on the bed and proceeds to lick a victory line down Stiles' spine, only pausing when he gets to the cleft of his ass. Stiles wriggles and Derek's tongue continues down, dipping hungrily between the cheeks and pressing up against his hole in a way that makes Stiles shout a rather undignified 'ahh!' into his pillow. Derek repositions them a little more comfortably on the bed before digging his fingers into the flesh of Stiles' hips to hold him still and testing muscle of Stiles' ass with his tongue first in little licks then in more penetrating jabs. Stiles is pretty sure a stream of meaningless profanity tumbles from his mouth but he doesn't attempt to censor himself, just hanging onto the sheets for dear life and interspacing the oaths with Derek's name occasionally. His dick presses into uncomfortably into the bed but what Derek is doing with his mouth more than makes up for that. Satisfied by what he's found so far Derek's tongue probes deeper, stretching out the muscle. Stiles releases his death-grip on the sheets with one hand, reaches out and after a little fumbling grabs the bottle of lube by his bed. Derek rams his tongue in deep and growls, the vibration echoing right through Stiles until he can barely remember his name. His dick leaks so much pre-come that he thinks he might be finished already. When the spots stop jumping in front of his eyes he feels the vice of his fingers being pried off of the bottle of lube and vaguely registers that Derek is no longer touching him. With some effort he turns over onto his back, offended dick thrusting up demandingly into the open air. Derek is crouched at the end of the bed, warming the lube in his hands. Stiles rearranges his legs so that his knees are bent but Derek is in full view between them and the Alpha only gives a little quirk of the lips before he's sliding up inbetween them and pushing a slick finger up into Stiles' hole. Stiles' dick jumps pathetically against his stomach and the words 'Derek, please' might have left his mouth then. But this was almost torture so he felt justified. 

“Soon,” Derek promised, face controlled in the way that Stiles' knew meant that he was close to losing it. Stiles bent his knees a little more, shifting down onto Derek's finger with a moan. And it was Derek's turn to swear, “Fuck,” before sliding another finger quickly inside Stiles. They explored for a moment before finding the place they were looking for and rubbing up against it, rough as he made his point. Stiles came with a cry, come pooling out over his stomach and his body twisting to the side convulsively. Derek's fingers continued to rub roughly against that spot until Stiles' trembling became a little more erratic and his hands waved to tell Derek to stop in a way his mouth wasn't quite capable of doing yet. Derek pulled his fingers out and crawled gently up Stiles' body, capturing his swollen lips with his own and pulling him back to himself with a shudder. Stiles' hands flailed for a moment then grabbed at Derek, soft but encouraging. When they broke apart he said 'sorry' but with a grin that made that word a lie. Derek quirked an eyebrow and ducked down to Stiles stomach, tongue lapping up the cooling come while a fascinated Stiles watched. His tongue traced down Stiles' happy trail. 

“I just...” but Stiles' voice faded away, unable to fully vocalise the scene before him with Derek's nose now nuzzling into the wiry hair at the base of his dick. 

“Mmm?” Derek hummed, now licking his way along the inside of Stiles' left thigh. 

“Just..” words were still forming sluggishly in his brain, “just give me a second,” he pressed a defeated arm over his eyes but almost immediately removed it when Derek switched his attention to the other thigh, small warm kisses now interspersed with the licking of his tongue. Stiles propped himself up on his elbows to get a better look, “Well. I guess we can go watch the next film now,” he said after a moment. Derek looked up at him, “What? I got mine,” Stiles grinned. 

Derek surged up the bed, closing the distance between them in milliseconds until he was pressing his forehead against Stiles'. Stiles kept his position, looking up at Derek challengingly and pressing back against him lightly. 

“I think you had a request,” Derek said. His hands slid from Stiles' hips to his thighs as he arranged himself between Stiles' legs, pressing his dick against Stiles' hole. 

“Mmm,” was all Stiles could manage before Derek was slowly pushing into him. They had done this many times now and the familiar stretch was nothing but a turn on now for Stiles. His too-sensitive dick was beyond caring at the moment but he still took pleasure from the feeling, from the look on Derek's face as he fit inside him fully. Concentration, desire, vulnerability. He began to move, little hip thrusts that barely took him out of Stiles at all. Stiles exhaled and fell back onto the bed, sighing out a contented, “Fuck,” as he closed his eyes and enjoyed the sensation. But Derek fucking him was too beautiful a sight to miss and soon enough he opened his eyes again to take in the full sight. As their eyes met Derek increased his pace, rolling his hips up sharply. As his controlled expression slowly dissolved Stiles reached up and traced the contours of his chest, nails digging in, he tugged at a nipple hard then pulled Derek closer by the bicep, bending his legs further to allow for their closeness. His fingers fisted the hair at the back of Derek's neck and he'd almost closed the distance between their lips when Derek jerked involuntarily out of his grip as he came with a moan and a hard thrust deep into Stiles. “Yes,” Stiles encouraged, tugging Derek back down towards him as he road out his orgasm, jerking his hips erratically into Stiles. Their lips met in a confused but elated kiss, lips and tongues stuttering against each other messily. Slowly Derek slid out of him and they settled into a more comfortable position, Derek resting his weight gently on the length of Stiles' body as he corrected the kiss, the thudding of his heart echoing in Stiles' chest heavily. 

They stayed like that for a moment then Derek rolled off onto his side. He kept one arm over Stiles' chest and buried his face into Stiles neck. The bed was only really made for one person so it was the only position that was really comfortable for both of them but it wasn't unpleasant. Stiles tilted his head so that Derek's hair rubbed against his cheek. His fingers traced the line of Derek's arm and lingered against the rougher skin of his elbow. 

“If we do this after every film it's going to take us a while to get through them,” he commented, “not that I'm complaining,” 

“I thought this was the main event. Not the films,”

“That's because you've not seen Phantom Menace yet,” Even with his face hidden Stiles swore he could feel Derek frowning, “Oh come on, you knew about this when you got into this with me. I'm a completist.”

“But.. all six films?”

“And Robot Chicken... Family Guy... the animated series... then I might even pull out my laptop and show you the awful Holiday Special they did and tried to purge from existence. And the porn version. Ah!” Derek had bitten at his shoulder at that mention, “I knew that'd keep you interested,” 

“Lets just skip to that one,”

“Look at you pretending that you don't care about what happened to Luke... well, I think you can guess what happens to him in the porn version,”

Derek hummed against Stiles and tightened his grip around him slightly. From refusing to sitting next to him on the sofa to cuddling with him in bed Stiles thought the taming of Derek Hale had gone quite well that evening. And he hadn't even got around to sucking on his big toe. Yet? There were still five films to watch after all.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! Again, apologies for the title (though not really... but really).


End file.
